


Nightmares

by purgatorynightmares



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #after season 8, #chick flick moments, #deancas, #fallen cas, #fallen castiel, #fallen!cas, #fallen!castiel, #first fic, #post season 8, #season 8, Destiel - Freeform, Ghosts, Hunting, M/M, Salt And Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:58:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatorynightmares/pseuds/purgatorynightmares
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Season 8, Castiel finds his way to the bunker. He suffers from terrible nightmares about his last night as an angel, and seeks comfort from Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lying Here in the Dark

“Ungh,” came a sleepy moan as Cas intently watched Dean stir in his sleep.

“Dean, are you awake?” came Castiel’s low voice through the darkness.

“I am now,” yawned Dean as he pushed himself up onto his elbows on the memory foam mattress. He squinted at the green numbers on the alarm clock next to his bed in the Men of Letters bunker before turning to look at the fallen angel. “It 3:00 AM, man, why are you up?”

“I had a nightmare.” Cas replied without further elaboration.

“Whaddya want me to do about it?” Dean slurred, drowsy from having just woken up, “I’m not getting up until I’ve had my four hours.”

When he received no response, Dean thought further about the dream he’d just been having, wondering and worrying about whether or not Cas had been able to tell what he'd been dreaming about through the darkness. He sure as hell hoped ot. “How long have you been standing there?” he inquired, turning away to switch on his bedside lamp, before realizing Castiel could no longer see into his dreams. _Cas is human now_ he remembered, feeling a slight twinge in his chest.

“Long enough. Dean, I like watching over you. Are you aware of the fact that you drool?”

“Are you aware of the fact that you’re a dick?” Dean muttered under his breath before turning back to the former angel, “You do realize you’ve got to sleep, right? It sucks, but you’re human now, so…” He trailed off, finally noticing the dried tears on Castiel’s face, and the hidden emotion struggling to reveal itself in his steely blue eyes.

“Dean,” Cas croaked.

Dean didn’t know how to respond. He knew the transition to humanity had been outwardly easy for Castiel, after so many centuries of watching humans he knew the ins and outs. But he also knew that inwardly Cas had taken the fall hard. Despite his good intentions, Cas had locked all of his brothers and sisters out of their home, possibly forever- he had failed heaven once again. _All the poor dude ever wanted to do was help_ , Dean thought to himself before resigning himself to the fact that he actually had to talk about the nightmares with Cas, _And he has saved my ass plenty of times_.

Sighing, Dean gestured for his friend to sit down on the edge of his bed. Cas sat down gingerly, still spooked from his nightmare. It was weird to see Castiel-Angel-of-the-Lord, a powerful celestial being, as a frightened weak human. But here Dean Winchester, the righteous man, was helping God’s little soldier get over a bad dream in the middle of the middle of the night. This could turn into a chick-flick moment way too easily. Awesome. Just awesome.

“So…Cas, what was your nightmare about?” No response. _Awesome. Just awesome._ “Cas! Talk to me!”

Castiel attempted to collect himself for a moment before answering, “It was my fault, Dean, my fault.”

“What was your fault, Cas? You’re not making sense here.”

“I had a nightmare. About my brethren being cast from heaven. Naomi warned me that Metatron was lying, but I wouldn’t listen. I watched them fall, every last one of my brothers. It was my fault. Naomi warned me… I should have listened.” Then lower, in a voice he didn’t realize Dean would hear, “Why didn’t I listen?”

“Cas, buddy, it wasn’t your fault. That Naomi bitch had lied to you. She’d controlled you. It wouldn’t have made sense to trust her.”

“DEAN. It was my fault. I failed heaven- AGAIN!” Cas was nearly shouting at this point. _Awesome. Just awesome._ Dean had no idea how to console his friend, and his volume was rising to the point that he could wake the whole house. Dean paused for a few seconds, waiting to see if the yelling had woken up Sam. By some miracle it hadn’t.

“You listen to me, Castiel” Dean said as firmly and as ferociously as he could muster at this early hour. He reached out a hand to Cas, gently squeezing his shoulder to punctuate each word. “You. Did. Not. Know. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault.” Castiel’s eyes were less angry and upset than before, but there was still a certain fear, accompanied by an astonishing sadness. Dean faltered a bit as he continued in a softer tone, “It’ll all be alright in the morning. We’ll figure it out Cas, we always do.”

“…I know,” came the timid response. _But there’s more_. Cas wanted to say. He wanted to tell Dean about the rest of his nightmares, the ones he’d been having for nearly a year now. But Cas knew that he couldn’t. Dean was tired, and he thought Cas was fine. So he had to be fine. Castiel pushed the thoughts of his other nightmares to the back of his mind, feigning serenity. Maybe, just maybe, he’d bring up the purgatory nightmares some other time. The possibility of that, however, seemed slim. He wouldn’t know how to broach the subject with Dean, and even if he could, he didn’t know how to have the conversation without hurting- or possibly even scaring- Dean. He prayed, even though he knew that there was no longer anyone for him to pray to, until he finally was at peace.

Dean could tell that Cas was finally calm, if weary from his outburst. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, Dean propped up against his pillows, gripping Castiel’s shoulder in a way all too similar to how the angel had held his own when raising him from perdition. Neither of them spoke for the longest time, they just stared at each other as if they’d never seen the other in their lives. There was nothing else to say. Not for the moment, anyway.

Cas was the one who finally broke the silence. “You’re hurting me, Dean,” he stated simply, glancing slightly towards his shoulder. Dean, suddenly aware of the awkwardness of the situation, scrambled away.

What had before been amicable quiet became uncomfortable silence. At long last, Dean cleared his throat, glancing at the clock. 6:00 AM- an acceptable hour to be up. “There’s, uh, there’s coffee in the kitchen.” Dean says it as if he’s unsure, like a question.

“Thank you Dean,” Cas said as he stands up. It was evident to Dean that he was talking about more than just the coffee. _The fallen angels can be dealt with later, as long as Cas is fine for now,_ he thought to himself. Stealing one last worried look at the former angel, Dean stood up as well. Together they went out to face the morning.


	2. Dreamer Always Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, Sam is wondering what exactly is going on. (Sort of a slow chapter, with lots of my own ponderings.)

Sam just raised an eyebrow as he watched Dean and Cas emerge together from Dean’s room. He didn’t say a word, but the lifted brow still earned him a pointed glare from his older brother.

“Good morning, Sam,” Cas greeted, as Dean headed towards the pot of coffee that Sam had already brewed.

“Mornin’ Cas!” Sam replied, all too chipper for 6:00 AM.

“Whatcha readin’, Sammy?” Dean inquired by way of greeting.

“Uh, research. I’ll explain later. I cooked up some eggs on the stove, help yourselves.” Eggs were about the only thing Sam could cook without nearly catching the bunker on fire. It was just as well, Dean preferred to do the cooking himself- it was kind of soothing.

Dean finished scooping his eggs onto a plate and sat down, shoveling them into his mouth immediately. He then spat them out just as quickly, making a face. Maybe Sam should just stay out of the kitchen in its entirety. Sam saw the episode and reacted with a slightly offended look. Castiel just looked on quizzically.

“If you don’t like it, make your own breakfast,” Sam spewed with a tad more venom in his voice than was necessary. Considering the early hour, he should’ve been impressed that Dean had managed to display any tact at all- that is, at least he didn’t outright SAY anything.

Castiel decided to take his chances on the eggs- they were strangely lumpy, but at least they appeared to be properly cooked- as he served himself and sat down. Dean just sat there staring at his breakfast as if it had somehow managed to disappoint him for several minutes before pushing back his chair and heading to the sink to allow his plate to drop with a jolting thud. He announced that he was going back to bed.

Sam shook his head as he watched his brother leave the kitchen. Dean wasn’t usually a morning person, often refusing to get out of bed before noon when they weren’t working a case, but he’d just glared at his eggs as if they’d personally offended him. Sam glanced up in preparation to ask Cas if he knew what was going on, but he found that the former angel was already staring at him.

“Dean didn’t get much sleep last night. This was due almost entirely to the fact that I kept him up.” Cas answered before Sam had even begun to ask any questions.

Sam gave a questioning look. It was too early in the morning for him to be worrying about what had happened between Castiel and Dean the previous night. Scratch that, it would be too early ANY time of day to be thinking about that- well in _that_ regard, anyway. It wasn’t that he didn’t support them, he really did, he just didn’t want to think about the messy details of his brother’s sex life. But if something had happened and they now shared more than just a “profound bond”, he’d like to know. He’d watched Dean his entire life, looking up to him, trying to be just like his big brother since he was four-years-old. As a result, he knew Dean better than either of them knew themselves. He knew what Dean looked- and acted- like when he was attracted to someone. He also knew that that wasn’t exactly the case here. Sam had looked on, for years, as something new slowly began to happen with Cas- something that had never happened between Dean and ANYONE before. A bond had formed between his brother and Castiel, a bond entirely unlike any of the one-night stands and short term relationship Dean had had previously. Dean had only ever cared about a few people as much he cared about Cas, and he considered all of those people to be family. The specific way with which Dean cared about Castiel, though, was completely different. Sam knew that his brother took care of him so much because he’d felt responsible for him due the enormous weight their father had put onto him- in such an unjustified and cruel way- as soon as their mother had died. Of course, Dean would have loved him as much regardless, and protecting people was in his nature, but if John hadn’t made Dean into Sam’s primary parental figure for both of their entire childhoods, Dean wouldn’t have _needed_ Sam so badly. There were other people, too, people whose absence caused Dean immense sorrow, but no one else made Dean feel like his world was crashing down around him when they were gone. No one, that is, except for Castiel.

Dean had thought, several times, that he’d lost Cas for good. It was during those times that he’d closed up. He’d relied almost completely on alcohol, and he just couldn’t function like a normal person was supposed to. Some people might think that it was weird for someone to miss someone that they were most frequently seemingly dismissive of, but Sam expected as much. Dean was, in a sense, emotionally constipated- he didn’t really know how to care about people, try as he might. Maybe it happened in Hell, but Sam always thought it started before that: Dean’s hesitance, to the point of inability, to truly care about people began the moment he’d been placed in Dean’s arms and told to him to run. But now Dean cared about Cas, and Sam could tell that it was scaring the crap out of him. Sam had watched the emotion in his brother’s eyes change slowly to something that could only be described as love. Except that wasn’t it exactly. Sam didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. It was something more than love, but almost somehow less at the same time. _A “profound bond”_ , Sam supposed to himself, _really is the best way to label it._

Sam shook his head, trying to find himself in his thoughts. As oblivious as Dean was to his feelings for Cas, Castiel had seen Dean’s soul. Sam knew that Cas had to know, at least to some extent, how Dean felt about him. Which meant that he could bring up to Cas what had happened last night. Sam felt he needed to know what- if anything- was going on. Besides, Cas would surely spare any gory details, right?

“Hey Cas, what happened last night… with Dean?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Sorry that nothing really happens, I just really wanted to write down all of the things I think Sam thinks about. If you like the story, please consider leaving kudos or comments- with suggestions, would be stellar! I really have pretty much no clue as to where I'm going with this story, but I'm enjoying it thus far!
> 
> Also: I haven't yet edited this chapter. I will eventually, though.


	3. I Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is forced to think about his feelings. Sam is forced to ask him about them.

Cas looked up from his plate to peer at Sam with a mouthful of eggs.

“I don’t know what you are referring to.”

“Dean seems kind of tense this morning…” Sam started. No reply. _And you both came out of his room this morning looking like neither of you had gotten much sleep._ He wouldn’t mention it. It would be too awkward. Not going to mention it. No.

More silence.

Sam picked his words with great care, “…I heard you last night. Leaving your room.”

The former angel across the table had broken eye contact with him, picking at his food.

“And I saw you leave Dean’s room this morning,” Sam continued slowly.

Castiel sighed. He’d have to answer, he knew. Otherwise, Sam would just keep asking questions, and then he’d have to answer even more questions than he would have to at this point.

“I had a nightmare.” _There. Now he’ll stop._

“What was your nightmare about?” Sam coaxed gently, taking the tone he always took with the families of victims he had to simultaneously console and interrogate while on cases. He was unsure whether or not Dean had asked all the right questions as he attempted to comfort Cas the night before, or if he had just done his best to get him to shut up. If Castiel was having nightmares, maybe talking would help.

No response. Or maybe talking wouldn’t help. _Fine. See if I care that you won’t talk to me about it._

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Castiel finally replied, long after Sam had given up waiting for a response. “I’m fine now, Dean helped me.”

Sam nodded. _Oh. Right. Dean._ Cas’s response still didn’t explain Dean’s strange mood this morning.

“Is Dean alright?” Sam couldn’t help but ask. His brother had been increasingly tense lately, and for no apparent reason.

“Dean… is fine. Why are you asking me this?”

“Dean’s been a little off lately. I mean, I’m just worried, is all.”

 

Cas didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. Sam stood up from the table to go check on Dean.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John Winchester raised his sons to be men. He taught them to be tough, and to fight. Dean was always a good little soldier. Well, maybe not all the time. In the year or two leading up to his father’s death he probably defied a few more orders than he should have. But this, this was big. Dean’s father had always raised him to be a man-a big, strong manly man, even in his father’s death that was an expectation deeply ground into his brain. He was finding it harder and harder lately to fit himself into that category, after all, there’s nothing manly about being gay- right? Maybe it didn’t count if the other dude technically didn’t have a gender. But, no, Cas was human now, and unless he decided otherwise, he was male since he was stuck in a man’s body. Anyways, Castiel wasn’t the first guy Dean had found himself attracted to, only the most long-standing and prominent one. And so what if he was gay? Dean had let his father down before, it wouldn’t exactly be a new occurrence.

Even with the whole gay-means-unmanly factor aside, there were other problems. The fact that, up until a few months ago, Castiel had been a frikkin’ Angel of the Lord. Dude didn’t even have a soul, just grace. Well, not anymore. Metatron had, obviously, stolen Cas’s grace. Sam had done all the tests he could think of, and Cas didn’t have a soul. He had something inside of him, but it wasn’t a soul or grace. Whatever it was, Dean still doubted that Castiel had the capacity to love him. Angels definitely didn’t have the parts that were necessary to love someone, and it was highly unlikely that he’d suddenly have the ability to now.

He didn’t even know when it happened. Dean couldn’t remember whether or not he’d been jealous of Daphne, or even Meg. He’d forgotten when he’d first found the nerdy little dude with wings to be someone he couldn’t live without. Honestly, that was another problem: Dean always took Cas for granted, getting mad at him for nothing and just using him for his powers, until he was gone. When Castiel had suddenly died or otherwise disappeared, the realization of how much he needed Cas always hit him like a brick wall. Even now that Cas was powerless and human, Dean still wanted him around. And Cas still seemed to want to be around. And Dean would be damned (again) if he didn’t figure out how to help his angel with his nightmares.

A sudden knock jolted Dean out of his thoughts. Sam came into Dean’s room without further announcement.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean greeted in an attempt at nonchalance, pushing himself up to rest his back against his pillows. Sam had obviously come in here for a reason. Now that Dean finally had his own room, Sam had decided that it would be in his best interest to let that be Dean’s special space, meaning he’d stay out of his brothers room if at all possible.

“How are you, Dean?” Sam asked, trying to start casual, even though he knew Dean probably already why he why he was in there.

“Tired. Cas had a nightmare, so he came in here last night. I didn’t get much sleep.”

“He already told me that.”

“What are you asking Sammy.” Dean didn’t say it like a question, more like a challenge.

“I’m asking what’s going on. Between you and Cas, I mean.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” Sam could hear the denial in Dean’s voice.

“Dean… Talk to me. Please.”

 _Talk to me._ Dean repeated the phrase in his head. He’d said the same words to Castiel more than once, last night included. He supposed it was time for him to do the talking. A chick flick moment would probably ensue. _Awesome. Just awesome._

“I don’t know, man. Cas just had a nightmare, and he came to me- why did he come to me, I’m a crap listener- and he was scared and I didn’t know what to do, but I tried to tell him everything would be okay, it’d be alright in the morning and all, ‘cause that’s what I always told you when you got scared at night, and I told him I could fix it, but I don’t know how to fix it. How do I fix it, Sammy?” As Dean rambled his voice got higher and faster, and his face took on a familiar hysteric expression. At the end he took a deep breath and looked back up at his brother.

“Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Dean looked at his brother expectantly.

Sam continued, “Let’s go back out to the kitchen, Cas will want to hear this, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to upload!! I was out of town for a few days. I think I might finally have a tentative direction for this fic. I'm sorry it's so slow moving, I just have so many things I want to say about the dynamic between Dean and Cas...


	4. Lately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys start to talk about helping the angels.

“So get this,” Sam started talking before they’d even sat down. Well, Cas was sitting, he had apparently remained at the kitchen table during the Winchester’s heart-to-heart.  Sam had gone and fetched his books from the library, and Dean went to find some drinks for them all: beer- it was 10:00 AM, too early for the hard stuff. “I’ve been doing some research, looking at the books in the Men of Letters library, and I think I might have a way to fix our problem.”

“What problem, Sammy? We have a whole crap ton of problems.”

“The whole angels being locked out of heaven problem. The thousands of celestial beings walking the earth-“

“I got it, Bruno Mars. What’ve you dug up?”

“I found a book that mentions the angel tablet, only different.”

“What do you mean?” asked Castiel suspiciously.

“I mean, the angel tablet that locked all the angels out of heaven has another part. A counterpart, if you will.”

Before any of them could say anything further they heard a ruckus coming from below them.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked, jumping out of his seat to evidently look for whatever was causing the din.

“Crowley, I’d assume,” answered Castiel.

“Crowley?” Dean’s facial expression conveying that he was still confused.

“Kevin went downstairs to talk to him.” Cas responded, not understanding why both Winchesters were now giving him a look of panic.

“Dude killed Kevin’s mom, Kevin will want to kill him, and we need him for intel. Why the hell didn’t you tell us Kevin went down to the dungeon?”

Cas looked startled and a bit upset with himself because he felt like he’d let them down again. He started to apologize, “I didn’t know, I”-

“It’s okay, I’ll just go see what’s going on.” Sam soothed.

As Sam headed down towards the dungeon, Dean just looked at Cas. Castiel stared back with eyes similar to those of a kicked puppy until they saw Sam reappear, with Crowley and Kevin in tow.

“So Kevin thinks that Crowley here might know a thing or two about the angel tablet, and he just wanted to talk to him about it. Calmly.” Sam tried to explain the situation, as it had been explained to him, to Dean and Cas.

Crowley looked like that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “CALMLY?!” He spat out. “Your little prophet friend wants to kill me! He has this whole time!”

“Listen, Crowley, I’m sure Kevin just wanted to”-

“Oh, shut it Moose. I don’t know anything about your precious tablet. Not much anyway. I do know that it does exist, though. ”

“Where?” Castiel asked quietly. If they could find the angel tablet he could send his brothers home. If he could fix this, it would be a start to mending the home he once loved.

“I don’t know, weren’t listening you miserable fool? I just know that there’s another part of the tablet.” He continued, “Oh yes. One itsy bitsy detail that I’d quite forgotten: no one has seen it in centuries.”

At this Dean pounded his fist on the table and pushed his chair back loudly. He grabbed Crowley by the handcuffs and started to drag him back to the dungeons where they had been keeping him since the incomplete trials. Before the two got very far, though, the phone rang shrilly. Everyone stopped what they were doing for a second, wondering who could possibly be calling.

“Dammit, Sam get the phone.” Dean ordered, still not moving in the direction of the dungeon.

Sam answered the phone as it was on its last ring. He listened to whoever was talking on the other line for a minute before answering. “Garth, hi! We were just discussing it. Crowley has nothing… We’ve got no leads here, so I guess it couldn’t hurt. Yeah? Nebraska? That’s not too far… We can take 3, we’ve done it before… Bye Garth.”

No one had moved, listening intently through the whole exchange. They all looked at Sam expectantly, well, everyone but Crowley did anyway. Dean broke the silence first.

“You told GARTH about the angel tablet before me!?!” He fumed.

“I, well, he was helping me research it. I didn’t see any point any getting your hopes up if it didn’t end up leading anywhere.”

Dean looked marginally more calm at his brother’s explanation. He decided to get to the next topic at hand. “Garth’s got a case for us?”

“Yeah, 3 ghosts up in Omaha. They keep attacking folks in an old B&B.”

“Those things are always haunted,” Dean muttered. “Should be an easy salt and burn, right?”

“Right. We’ll have to stay at the haunted B&B, though. And they probably won’t take anything but cash.”

“I guess that’s next on the line of business, then. I’m all out of green ones.” Dean said, already planning where they could hustle pool. He turned to Cas, “You game to work a case?”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas acted like it was no big deal, but they all knew different. It would be his first time working a case since he had fallen. Actually, none of them had been on a case since then. They’d gotten too caught up in nursing Sam back to health, interrogating Crowley, and teaching Castiel how to be human. They’d tested his instincts and fighting skills. Cas was an ace with a knife and his shooting skills were passable, but what had really shocked Sam and Dean was how quickly Cas could run. But testing and training were different from actually going out and doing the job, and they all knew that. Cas had to start hunting as a human sometime, and, well, there was no time like the present.

Dean turned to Kevin, but before he even asked Kevin shook his head. “No way, man. I don’t want to deal with any monsters if I don’t have to. I’ll just stay here and try to find out more about the tablet.”

Dean nearly jumped as the handcuffs were pulled out of his hands and Crowley cleared his throat. “Boys, boys, boys, off on another adventure, are we? Care to take me along?”

“No,” Dean voiced gruffly. Who knew how he’d try to sabotage them.

“And leave your little prophet here to watch me?”

Kevin’s eyes widened in an “Oh crap!” look. He obviously didn’t want to be stuck with the former King of Hell for who knows how many days.

Sam resolved the little situation as quickly as it had been started. “We’ll send him over to Garth’s. You can focus better on your research without having to babysit him, and maybe Garth will get some information out of him.”

“Oh Moose! My hero!” Crowley proclaimed sarcastically. “You’ve saved me from the wrath of the evil little prophet once more!”

No one even bothered responding to Crowley as they all began to gather up their things. Cas was in the backseat of the Impala shortly, waiting for Dean to gather up a few tapes he’d put in his bedroom and Sam to find all of the research books Kevin would need to look through. They were out of Lebanon’s city limits in 20 minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said the plot would start, sorry I lied. But in the next chapter there might be some pool hustling, maybe, if I can figure it out. Hopefully it won't take me an entire week to put up the next chapter! Thank you all for putting up with me, I hope you're enjoying the story!
> 
> By the way, I've been getting the chapter titles from the song Nightmare by MSG. It has absolutely no relation to the story, but I just like it.
> 
> This chapter has yet to be editted.


	5. Scared Like My Dreams Made Their Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They make it to the B&B and then I go insane and write 400 words about rock-paper-scissors.

Cas was uncomfortable. As in, REALLY uncomfortable, more so than usual. Not  “I do not understand how to act in this situation” uncomfortable, but more physically. He was lying on the ground on a sleeping bag, which was the cause of his aching back, the obnoxious pain intensified by the fact that feeling physically hurt was still relatively new to Castiel.

Cas wasn’t sure exactly how long it should have taken himself, Sam, and Dean to drive from the bunker to Omaha, but he knew they had made it in even better time than Dean had been hoping for. Originally, they’d planned on stopping at a hotel when Dean  was too tired to drive (he argued that Sam still wasn’t in proper condition to be driving Baby, and Cas obviously couldn’t even sit in the front seat of the Impala before  he properly trained on a junker), but they had apparently driven fast enough to get to the little B&B where they were working the case by 9:00. It was a nice and cozy place to stay, apart from the fact that it was haunted, with crisp white walls and baby blue accents. Cas was stuck staring at the smooth ceiling up above him, trying to avoid touching the too cold hardwood floor with his bare skin because the rooms were so expensive that they could only afford one double. They had stopped quickly to rack up a little cash- Castiel wondered if he should be worried that the Winchesters only needed approximately 40 minutes to make all money they needed by hustling pool, but since they were in a time crunch, they’d opted for the minimum earnings in hopes that they could get to the B&B in a shorter time.

The double room would have worked with no problem at all until recently, but now Castiel needed to sleep, which meant that one of them had to spend the night without a bed. Of course none of the three had wanted to camp out on the floor for the night (or possibly next several nights), so they resorted to the patented Winchester solution for decision-making before the bickering turned into an out-of-control altercation. Rock, paper, scissors was taken very seriously by both of the Winchester brothers.

 Sam and Dean played first, Dean lost with a pout, demanding that they play best two out of three. Of course, he lost due to the fact that he still couldn’t remember to throw anything but scissors. Sam was already settling his bag onto the bed when Cas lost against Dean. Dean seemed quite pleased with himself until Cas took a page from Dean’s own book and requested two more matches, his one victory making him cocky, Dean consented.  Somehow, Cas hadn’t picked up on the fact that defeating Dean was as easy as always casting rock, and he ended up losing against Dean all three times. Sam howled with laughter as he revealed his trick to Cas as soon as the game was over, Sam had let Castiel lose because he figured he should let Dean win just this once.

The Winchesters had let Cas take first shower as they put salt and sigils around the room, just to be safe. It was a consolation prize of sorts after losing rock-paper-scissors, and a sacrificial one at that. Both men knew that Cas would take all the hot water, he hadn’t quite gotten a hang on how to properly shower yet, they assumed due to the fact that getting clean always took him 45 minutes or longer, and since neither of them wanted to broach the subject with the former angel nothing was done about the fact that anyone who showered after Cas had to try to take the fastest shower humanly possible so they didn’t freeze their balls off.

By the time they were all settled down, none of them had enough energy to do anything but watch a few TV shows (a Dr. Sexy marathon, much to Dean’s delight), before calling it a night.

So Castiel was now stuck in the middle of the carpet staring at the ceiling as the Winchesters snored softly up on their beds on either side of him. Sometime late in the night, after he’d memorized the every detail in the room and gone through the names of every prophet he could remember, Castiel fell asleep.

_Cas started running through the woods, the monsters were closing in on Dean. They’d already knocked Benny out, Castiel wasn’t sure why the leviathan didn’t just kill the vampire, but for some reason they had cast Benny aside and were quickly getting closer to Dean. Dean and Benny had been sleeping, and Castiel was supposed to be keeping watch so that nothing like would happen. But Cas had gotten bored, and maybe a little bit cocky, and since there were no monsters in sight, he decided to check for any in a 30 mile radius. He had only been gone less than a minute, but when he got back (about 700 feet from where they’d set up camp for the night- something about purgatory was messing with his aim) a leviathan had just hit Benny hard on the head, and two more were sneaking up on Dean. Cas tried to scream, but no sound came out. He shouted as loudly as he could possibly muster, but all that exited his throat was air. There was nothing he could do, he’d just tried to help but he’d gotten cocky and now Dean was dying, and it was all his fault. His running slowed like an agonizing moment in an over-dramatic action film as the angel watched a leviathan’s face open up into a swirling void of teeth._

Cas woke up with a gasp. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, hyperventilating. With another start, he noticed a pair of green eyes staring down at him- even through the darkness Castiel could see that the look he was being given was laced with all-too-familiar concern.

Dean didn’t even think about what he was doing as he patted the edge of his bed and made room for the other man to slide in next to him, he’d heard his friend cry out in fear during his dream and the only thought on Dean’s mind was that he needed to comfort him. As Cas stumbled out of his sleeping bag and into Dean’s bed he was overcome with relief that Dean wasn’t dead, he hadn’t killed him, Cas hadn’t screwed up this time. Dean settled the blankets over them both, and wrapped his arms around the slightly smaller man, rocking him gently until his sobs had subsided.

When Castiel stopped shaking at long last, Dean whispered to him with deep concern for his friend making itself evident in his voice, “Was it the same as before? Was it Naomi and the angels? I told you Cas, you didn’t screw it up, it wasn’t your fault.”

Sam grunted and rolled over. Both Dean and Castiel held their  breath for a moment, exhaling only when the moose on the other bed rolled back over to face away from them again.

“I know that Dean,” came the quiet response after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Dean pleaded back, begging to know what was plaguing Castiel’s dreams, wondering how he could fix someone who now had as many problems as he did himself. He murmured to the blue eyed man, “What was it, then?” After yet another moment of charged silence he asked again, even softer than before, almost as if he were posing the question to himself, “What was it?”

At this Castiel just shook his head, burrowing his face into Dean’s chest.

 _Awesome. Just awesome._ Dean thought to himself sarcastically before realizing that this seemed right. If his angel needed comforting, it only seemed right that it should come from him. Cas would be safe with Dean by his side, his strong arms protecting the smaller human from any danger that he might face.

 _MY angel? When did he become MY angel._ Dean’s own thoughts startled him belatedly, before he realized once again that it was of no import. He could worry about it later.

As they both drifted off, Dean sighed to himself, still worried about whatever it was that was scaring Cas like this, pulling his angel even closer to him with a tug of his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I wrote so much about rock-paper-scissors. I must've gone mad.  
> I suppose I put out updates every Sunday? That wasn't my original plan, bit that's how it's panned out so far!  
> Please leave me kudos if you liked the story and comments if there's anything you'd like me to add (because I'm still unsure as to where this is going, even with my general direction), or comments with constructive criticism.  
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you are enjoying the story!


	6. Once Sheltered You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys formulate a ghost busting plan.  
> SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO GET UP.

Sam rolled over and stretched, as much as he could without his limbs being totally in the air next to his bed. Somehow he wasn’t all that surprised to see Dean clutching Castiel to him as they both slept. Sam did wonder, however, what had happened to get them in that position. He probably would have heard if they’d actually SAID the important stuff last night, though, so that still probably needed to happen. There was so much crap between them from these past several years, it could take them hours to talk through all of the pent up anger and frustration they felt towards each other before they even got to the part about how much they needed each other. Not that either of them would ever even consider talking about emotional stuff for that long, that is.

He decided to just let them sleep for a bit, after all, the ghosts probably wouldn’t be much of a problem until late that evening. Sam could just go jogging. He unzipped his suitcase as quietly as he could and grabbed his sneakers, the first t-shirt he could get his hands on, and running shorts that he’d successfully hidden from Dean for two years (because the last time Dean had seen the shorts Sam was mocked for months). He changed in the joint bathroom, running a hand through his hair to make it presentable, left a note on the beside stand, and shut the door quietly behind him.

Dean woke up first to find Cas’s head snuggled against his chest. Looking up over Castiel’s head, Dean could barely make out a note from Sam saying that he’d left for his run at 7:45. He didn’t see the normal red glowing numbers of a crappy old alarm clock that most motels kept on the bedside table, so Dean tried to reach out and feel for it- _It could be turned sideways or something, who knows?_. His hand was impeded, however, by another warm hand (just a bit smaller than his own) pulling him back in. Looking at Cas, nestled into a blanket cocoon and tangled into his arms in such a way that Dean could hardly tell where he ended and Castiel began, he realized why there was no too-bright motel alarm clock to wake him up with its shrieking at an ungodly hour: they were in a B &B, a quality establishment- rid of the smell of cigarette smoke and fear of bedbugs- for a change. At long last, his eyes found what he’d been searching for on the far wall, a handmade analog clock. _Damn, this place is nice._ Dean looked at the clock for a moment before he was finally able to decipher the time- 8:09, _Sammy won’t be back for another hour._ And with that thought, Dean wrapped his arms even more tightly around Castiel’s body, and let himself drift off to sleep.

            The first thing that Dean noticed when he woke up was the lack of heat, and the emptiness of a phantom figure in his arms. The feeling that it gave him was ridiculous, he hadn’t woken up next to someone regularly in years- since, well, since Lisa. He shouldn’t feel so unaccustomed to an empty bed. The second thing that he noticed was the time- 11:32, why had Sam let him sleep so late? The third thing he noticed as his eyes slid down from the clock to meet the pair of blue eyes staring at him intensely.

“Cas. How long have you been watching me?” Dean rubbed his eyes, and tried not to be freaked out at Cas’s staring.

“Since I woke up.”

“Oh great, thanks, that really clears things up,” Dean muttered. Then in a more audible voice, “Hey, where’s Sam?”

“Sam is in the shower. He brought you breakfast.”

As soon as Cas said it, Sam stepped out of the adjacent bathroom, wet hair combed and body clad in jeans and a plaid shirt.

“Bacon and eggs, extra grease.” Sam supplied, sitting down at the table with a newspaper in his hand.

“Mmm, perfect.” Dean replied, finding his still warm meal and digging in. He glanced over at his brother. “Scoping out new jobs, Sammy? We’re hardly started on this one.”

“No, just reading the paper. Listen, about this job, I figured out that there’s only two ghosts here. A woman named Margaret Redford and her son Charles. He was ten when they died, back in the fall of 1873. They were going to be staying here for a week or two because her husband had just died and all of his extended family was here in Omaha and had the funeral and were sorting his will and stuff out here, you know? Anyway, apparently Margaret’s brother-in-law owned this B&B so they were staying here, but her sister-in-law blamed Margaret for the death, and she set their room on fire to kill Charles and Margaret. They died exactly a week after her husband’s death. Crazy, right?”

“So no bones?”

“No bones, Dean. We’ll have to look for something else that’s tying them here. And get this, the ghosts come back only during week between the husband’s death and their own, and they only kill two people each time, but they attack plenty. A lot of tourists always show up when the ghosts are supposed to be around each year, trying to take pictures or hunt them- sounds like the Ghostfacers, right?”

At this point, Cas finally interjected, “Didn’t Garth say that there were 3 ghosts? You only spoke of two.”

Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged, before turning back to Cas. “Well, Garth must’ve been wrong. Sammy says there’s only two ghosts, there’s only two ghosts.”

“Right,” Sam spoke up again, “but we’ll be careful, just in case.”

Dean  formed a plan in his head, “So if there’s just two, why don’t you and Cas find what it is that’s keeping them here, while I hold off the fuglies themselves?”

“Yeah, that should work. You up for it, Cas?”

Cas nodded his head. Although it was going to be his first time hunting as a human- no smiting, no flying away, no healing himself or the Winchesters if any of them got hurt- he still had years of training, as well as the testing Sam and Dean had done on him when he’d first become human. Besides, it should be an easy case. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SOSOSOSOSO sorry that it took so long to get this chapter up, and that it's rather on the short side. I don't know why it took so long (it was finally ready last night, but then my computer was taken away from me, ugh), but it's up now. I will (fingers crossed) have the next chapter up next Sunday. I think there's probably only 3 or maybe 4 chapters left in this story (yes, I FINALLY decided where I'm going with it and how to end it).
> 
> I realize that I'm rambling on (Led Zeppelin, anyone?), but I'd like to thank you all for reading my story and bearing with me! (It would be lovely if you left comments and kudos, but don't feel pressured to.) Also: you can check out my tumblr, my url is "purgatorynightmares", same as my username here.


	7. Closed All the Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt begins

Day passed to evening in what felt like no time at all. Throughout the afternoon there had been more strategizing and planning, as well as just the general hustle and bustle of getting ready for a hunt. Strangely enough, despite all of the differences of Cas being powerless and being there on a basic hunt that wasn’t even Heaven related, it all felt _normal._ Almost soothingly, in Dean’s mind. He was there with his angel- _scratch that, best friend. Way more normal. Yep.-_ and his brother, doing what he did best.

Garth called sometime in the late afternoon, saying that Crowley was doing fine- not causing any problems, but not giving any information either- and that he’d not been impressed with Mr. Fizzles. An email from Dean to Sam that initially confused them both- the email address was under an old alias and hadn’t been used by Dean for years- turned out to be a message from Charlie announcing that she was still alive and hacking. And a frustrated series of texts let them all know that Kevin was exasperated with his research. Everyone was accounted for, and night had fallen, making the Winchesters and Castiel ready for the hunt to begin.

They split up according to plan- Dean began to head to the room where Margaret and Charles Redford had died while Sam and Cas snuck up into the attic of the B&B, to look for pictures, lockets, or anything that could be keeping the spirits there.

“There are at least 30 boxes here, Sam. How will we know what things could be theirs? What if none of these mindless baubles and human trinkets belonged to Margaret or Charles? What if the innkeepers didn’t keep any of Margaret’ and Charles’s things once they had died?” Cas was asking a million questions a minute. He hoped that he wasn’t bothering Sam, but- despite the ease of getting ready that afternoon- Castiel felt anything but at ease while searching through complete strangers’ once treasured possessions, even if they were now long forgotten. Aside from that, something else still felt not quite right. Maybe he was just worried too much. Especially about Dean. Especially because if Dean got hurt, there was nothing that Castiel could do to save him. Especially a million things. Cas carefully pushed all of the troublesome thoughts away from his mind as he stared at a locket, trying to determine whether or not it could have belonged to either of the spirits.

Sam looked away from the box of old clothes that he was sorting through to answer the former angel’s question, “They’re family. I mean, Phillip and Suzanna Montgomery, the innkeepers, had been Margaret’ and Charles’s family. “

“But Suzanna killed them,” Castiel argued back, after a moment he continued, “I am fairly unfamiliar with 19th century customs, am I correct that if they had different last names, that mean’s Margaret was only related by marriage. According to my knowledge, the Montgomerys would only have been Margaret’s in-laws; therefore they would have felt less emotionally attached to her and been less inclined to save the possessions belonging to her and to her son?”

“Well, if Suzanna was willing to blame Margaret for her brother’s death and go so far as to murder her and Charles, then she was probably pretty unattached to them. But,” Sam looked at Cas to make sure he was listening, “that doesn’t mean Phillip didn’t still like them. People aren’t always on bad terms with their in-laws.” Sam glanced away from Cas before looking at him again, this time with a different look in his eyes, “I think that if Dean were ever to get married or whatever, I’d be pretty close to my new sister-in-law, or,” Sam added pointedly, hoping Castiel would understand, “brother-in-law.”

Cas shot Sam a confused look, accompanied by a signature head tilt. “How would you know that you would even get along with such a person, let alone have deep emotional attachment to whoever that person would be if you do not know who that person might be? Dean is not even currently romantically involved with anyone.”

Sam looked away from Castiel, for good this time, and began sorting again. “I know my brother, Cas. I know exactly what type of person he’ll end up with, provided he ever has the balls to speak up.” This earned Sam another confused look from the ex-angel who was still dangling the same locket in his right hand. Sam, however, did not look back to him, and did not say anything else, so Castiel got back to work. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided that the locket could not belong to either Charles or Margaret, due to the picture inside suggesting that the locket had been owned by a young girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was on his way to the room where the murder had taken place, as it was the most logical place to seek out the two ghosts: they’d have a strong connection to the spot, and the majority of the sightings and a few of the other, ghostly murders had been there.

His plan was simple: play innocent, ask if he could take a tour of the “haunted” room that visitors were so often wishing to see.

Dean walked up to the front desk, putting on his most charming smile and administering his deepest voice, “Hello sir, I was wondering if there was any way that I could take a tour of room-“ he paused to look at the text of the room number same had sent him: 3751. Oddly high number considering there couldn’t have been more than 40 rooms in the entire establishment, hopefully Sammy hadn’t made a typo or anything, “3751.” Dean winked, but then immediately felt uncomfortable, especially considering the fact that the pimply upper 20 something man didn’t respond in any way at all. Damn, why was it so much harder trying seduce a dude that a chick?

“Room 3751 isn’t available to the public,” came the bored reply from across the desk, it sounded over-used, rehearsed.

“What if I rented it,” Dean squinted down to check the man’s name tag, “Chad? I wouldn’t exactly be public then, would I?” Another wink. This time, a weirded-out look was Chad’s reaction.

“No one has been allowed to rent that room for over a year due to the misfortune that has come about in room 3751. We’re sorry for any inconvenience and would be delighted to offer you any other available room, complete with our complimentary breath mints on the pillows of each bed.”

“Uhh, thanks but no thanks Chad, buddy. I’m good.” Dean said, dropping the act as he turned to walk away.

Dean turned back towards his own room, but took the back stairs at the end of the hallway, out of Chad’s line of sight, back towards where Sam had showed 3751 being on the maps. He found it with relative ease, and, despite already knowing it was empty, knocked twice on the door. Just as he was about to pick the lock- B&B’s made it _way_ too easy without even making him rig a fake key card- the door swung open on its own, much to Dean’s surprise.

Noting the shocked looked on his face, the man on the opposite side of the doorway ushered Dean in, shutting the door behind him. Dean turned to look at the dude now standing between him and the only exit.

Without so much as a pause, the man turned to face Dean as well and simultaneously began talking, “Do come in, make yourself at home. I’m Phillip Montgomery, what’s your name?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a month and I'm really, really sorry. But I promise to be better, okay? Many thanks to those of you who haven't given up on me, or on this fic. All of your feedback means the world to me!


	8. If It's Gonna End Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Castiel sort through antiques, Dean fights a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I'm an awful person and that I've ignored this fic since NOVEMBER. I've just had really bad writer's block and then I started to hate the story. I'd like to extend my deepest apologies to you all. There will be one more chapter after this, and hopefully an epilogue. Again, I'm terribly sorry that I made you all wait so long, but I hope that you'll enjoy the end of this story! I hope to have the story out by next Friday or Saturday, but comments, bookmarks, and kudos make me write faster! :)

Castiel was sorting through more boxes when he’d heard the thump. Based on the map, he was almost directly above room 3751. Cas brushed it off, surely that was just Dean entering the room. Thus far, neither he nor Sam had found anything that seemed like it could belong to Margaret or Charles. He had found, however, a wedding dress that had Suzanna’s initials embroidered into it. Sam had found Phillip’s pocket watch. Both were now sitting in a pile on top of the lavish wooden container that they’d been carefully packaged in. As the dress and watch were the only things in that particular box, Cas could assume that they were among the most important material possessions of the couple. The two men rummaged through the final boxes that they had yet to sort through. Just as Castiel opened another crate- full of books, it appeared- the thump sounded again, louder this time. The noise made Sam look up and catch Cas’s eye. Dean was always as quiet as possible when he had to hunt around civilians so that no one would think- well, realize- that the Winchesters were up to something and call the (actual) police. If he was making that much noise, something was surely wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                 This Phillip guy was freaking Dean out. He wasn’t being a wimp- no way. Just, the dude was supposed to be dead. And Sam had said there were only two ghosts, so why was this one here? Phillip had been a good guy, from the sounds of it. His wife had been a murderer, but he probably hadn’t known that. Dean just needed to get rid of him and find Margaret and Charles- the real troublemakers. Apparently that wasn’t in Phillip’s agenda, though.

“Please, take a seat,” he said with a smile that seemed pleasant enough for a dead guy.

“I- uh- I’m just…” Dean started, the damn ghost had cut him off before he’d even gotten a chance to gather is thoughts.

“PLEASE, _take a seat,”_ Phillip repeated with much more menace in his voice and venom in his sugary sweet smile.

Dean complied. Maybe if he played it off right he could get away from Phillip before any problems started. He sat at the very edge of the bed, hand resting over the iron knife in his pocket. Without bones or whatever was holding Phillip here there was no way to really off him, but iron would get rid of him for a little bit if need be.

“I heard,” Phillip started with a pretty creepy smile, “That you were looking for some old friends of mine. This, of course, _intrigued_ me, because I’m looking for them, too. I haven’t seen either of them for some time now, but they have debts that they both need to pay back to me. I was wondering”- he paused with his grossly polite smile turning to a sneer that looked more like he had just smelled something gross, -“could you, by any chance, help me find them?”

Dean looked around the room for any escape, anything that could be of any use to him. After he did a quick scan he came up with bubkiss- he’d have to fight his way out of this one.

“Awesome, just awesome.” Dean muttered under his breath.

Phillip’s head snapped towards him again, “What was that?”

Dean braced himself and prepared to attack, “I said no, I haven’t seen them.”

As he saw Dean’s hand go to his pocket, the ghost worked dropped all sense of civility and went from a quiet hostility to a searing rage in a matter of seconds.

“That _woman_ and her little _bastard_ were the reason why my wife was locked up. They _killed_ my brother!”

Dean stood as slowly as he possibly could, hiding the knife in his shirt sleeve. Phillip had started to see that Dean was on to him a few seconds before, but apparently he was distracted now and Dean wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“There was a fire and she got out and so did the little brat. But did they even bother saving him? Oh no! He was just ‘too far gone’ and ‘already engulfed in the flames’ to save!”

The hunter tilted his head- God, Cas really must have been rubbing off on him- as he listened to Phillip talk. The ghost reminded him a bit of his own father, if he was being honest with himself. The difference was that John had actually had people to blame and try to get revenge on while his man was just plain crazy. At least John had only ever spent his life trying enact his revenge unlike Phillip who had spent the entirety of his death thus far, or so it seemed, killing people in trying to get back at others who caused him pain by something that they couldn’t even control.

Straightening up and turning to face Dean once more, Phillip remembered what he was doing.

As Dean slid the blade out of his sleeve and lunged forward to attack, the ghost slid out of the way. Phillip faded out of site and then appeared again on the other side of the room. Dean made a move forward to try to attack again- one little stab was all it would take to temporarily fix his little problem. His boot hadn’t even hit the ground in his first step before the ghost had raised his hand up towards Dean. A desk flew forward towards Dean, knocking him down and pinning him against the wall with a thud.

Phillip adopted an intensely cruel smile as he began speaking again, “I’ve been watching you and your little friends since you first got here- pretty one, that brother of yours. I bet the ladies all fawn over him, like they did with my own brother. Pity he picked that Margaret bitch out of them all.”

Dean had clambered to his feet by this time, and at the comment about his brother he let out a low growl and attempted to climb over the desk. Phillip just sent a bedside table knocking against the desk to expand the barricade to further trap him in. The force of the bedside table broke at least one of Dean’s ribs- Phillip’s grimace widened at the cracking sound that accompanied the thud of the desk- and sufficiently knocked the wind out of Dean so that he had to clutch the desk for support.

Phillip continued- he’d obviously snuck into too many people’s rooms to watch villians give their typical admittance speech to the hero right before they tried to kill them, “That fuck-up of an angel almost figured out that I was the one doing the killings instead the bitch and her little bastard.”

Dean’s face must have twisted to a look of pure shock at what he knew and hatred for the man in general because the ghost paused his story to say, “Oh don’t be so surprised, I hear things. I know that your precious little boyfriend was the one who screwed up and locked everyone else out of Heaven. I know that he tried to play God and almost killed everyone. I know that everyone else- angel, demon, _ghost_ wants him dead.”

At this, Dean bristled. Voice low, he threatened, “Don’t you dared even _touch_ Cas.  If you hurt him I _will_ kill you.”

The ghost let out a dry laugh. “Oh yes, because you are in _such_ a great position to be making threats right now. Besides, your little angel can’t love you- not like you love him. He _is_ an angel, after all- he knows homosexuality is a sin. You already went to Hell once, are you ready to go again?”

Just as Phillip raised grabbed a knife out of his pocket, the door burst open with a bang.

A gun went off.

Dean blacked out.


	9. You're Gonna Be Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up after the hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! First of all, sorry it took over a month to pump this one out. The beginning of it was being rude to me. Thanks for being patient! Second of all, this is the last real chapter, the next will be an epilogue of sorts. Third, this chapter is double the length of any of the other chapters and contains a great deal more swearing (especially in the beginning) simply because I was trying to get into Dean's head a bit more. Finally, this fic reached 1,000 hits today and I just wanted to thank you all for bearing with me on this unreasonably long journey that has been my first fic! The epilogue will hopefully be here soon!

Dean scrambled to get back up before his eyes were even completely open, but something was restraining him. No way was he going to let some dead douche bag who wasn’t even supposed to be around beat him. But he couldn’t get his knife out of his pocket and he couldn’t get up from the surprisingly comfortable ground.

“Dean. Dean! DEAN!” a voice cried out.

_Who is that? Someone familiar. Sam. Sam?!?!_

Dean finally turned to view his surroundings. He was in his bedroom in the bunker, and Cas and Sam were the ones holding him down.

Castiel frowned down at the hunter from above. “Are you alright?”

Sam got closer, looming over Dean’s face.  “Of course he’s not, Cas. He passed out for three days-“

Dean sat up, pushing them both away (they were totally invading his personal space). “Three days! Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?”

“Dean. You had a fever of 103! You were knocked out by a ghost- we finished him off, by the way. Turns out the other spirits were benevolent and they left as soon as Phillip was gone. But you’ve stayed knocked out for the past three days.” Sam was frowning once more. He whipped out a thermometer- where the hell had that come from?- to check again. “Still 103.”

“You really should get back to sleep.” Castiel added with a look of concern.

And so he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean didn’t wake up again until Cas was shaking him, shouting his name with increasing volume- the dude really did need to be taught proper wake-up call etiquette.

“DEAN! WAKE UP!”

Dean tried to roll away from the loud sound, but he had apparently misjudged, and he ended up rolling off of the bed with a grunt.

Strong arms looped under Dean’s knees and neck- and holy hell Cas sure was holding him close.

Castiel began speaking as he gently set Dean back into bed. “You were having a nightmare Dean. I tried to wake you up for several minutes before you responded.”

“Yeah, well, I’m fine now. I don’t even remember it.”

The worried frown from the last time he’d woken up seemed to have taken up permanent residence on Castiel’s face, deepening further when Dean claimed to not remember his nightmare.

“If you don’t remember it, why is there still fear in your eyes, Dean?” Cas’s voice was quieter now- soothing, yet still somehow prodding at the same time.

Dean said nothing, but looked away from the intensity of Castiel’s eyes.

Moments passed.

He cleared his throat.

“Uh, Cas, you can put me down now. Any time.”

Castiel hastily set Dean on the bed and tucked the sheets in around him. Cas probably didn’t know it, but he was the first person to tuck Dean in since he was four years old.

Cas stood there by the bed for a moment, almost expectantly. Finally, he pulled up a chair right next to Dean’s head.

More silence.

Castiel was quiet for so long, Dean had begun to wonder if he’d somehow fallen asleep. At last, he spoke.

“I have nightmares too, you know. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

It was Dean’s turn to remain silent.

“What are your nightmares about?”

Dean rolled over so that his back faced Cas. When the other man’s eyes burning into his back finally got to be too much, he started to talk.

“Purgatory mostly. But sometimes Hell. That was _years_ ago now. I’ve moved on.”

Castiel said nothing, his polite silence asking Dean to continue. For once, he did.

“It just sucked. I hate what it did to me, who I came there. Sometimes I felt like that in Purgatory too, like I _enjoyed_ killing things, like it was more for fun than to just save our asses. Man, that scared the _hell_ out of me.”

Dean cut off there. It was Castiel’s turn to speak.

“My nightmares are about Purgatory. I was terrified that you might not make it out. I killed so many monsters just so they couldn’t get to you. That’s why I am comforted most when you are the one that rouses me from those dreams. It reminds me that you’re not there anymore, that you are safe now.”

Dean rolled back over to face Cas. He peeked over for a second, then promptly fell back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then next time Dean awoke, he was finally feeling better. (Man that ghost must’ve been a _bitch_ to make him feel like such crap for so long.) Cas was not by his bed, and the chair had been set back in place. Sam was not in Dean’s room, his own, the kitchen, or the library. Even though the bunker had a frankly unnecessary amount of rooms that he could possibly be in, if Sam wasn’t in one of those that he frequented, he probably wasn’t anywhere to be found. They still had not gotten around to exploring very much of the bunker, perhaps that was something they’d do soon. The deep warble of a cello told Dean that Kevin was practicing in some sort of parlor/ old fashioned living room thing a few doors down and was better off left alone. Crowley was still in the basement, locked up in the dungeon, and Dean had no particular desire to attempt to visit with him.

With no one around to talk to and no ideas about any sort of angel tablet crap or any cases Sam had picked out while Dean was sick, Dean headed to the kitchen to make himself lunch. One beer and a BLT later, Sam and Castiel still weren’t home. Choosing the most secluded spot possible (that had already been explored, he’d decided it was better not to enter any of the unmarked and unknown rooms on his own), Dean started up Sam’s laptop and put in his copy of Doctor Sexy M.D., Season 3 (Extended Edition-now with even more heart stopping romance and surgeries!). Three episodes in Dean got so angry that two of the nurses were secretly hooking up with each other while one of them was supposed to be dating Doctor Sexy that he slammed that laptop shut so hard that it turned itself off. Oops. Hopefully Sam wouldn’t find out. But seriously, how could someone choose some tacky nurse in ill-fitting scrubs over a beautiful doctor in cowboy boots?

Dean checked to make sure the screen wasn’t cracked or anything-no harm done- and ejected the disk before returning the laptop to its rightful place on Sam’s desk and heading to the kitchen. Evidentially, either Kevin or Cas had been helping Sam with the grocery shopping, because the refrigerator had plenty in stock besides just rabbit food. Dean set to work marinating chicken breasts for them all (even Crowley) and scrubbing potatoes. He’d put both the chicken and the potatoes in the oven to bake (Sam would throw a bitch fit if he tried to fry anything) and set timers for both when Sam and Castiel both walked through the door

“Hey Dean,” Sam greeted “You look like you’re feeling better!”

Cas was more somber (although that wasn’t out of the ordinary), “Hello Dean.”

Dean nodded to them both and began pulling premade rolls out of the freezer and putting them onto a foil covered tray. As Sam began to exit the kitchen so he could read or do some other nerd thing he does, Dean effectively stopped him by clearing his throat. It may have been a little dramatic (especially granted the fact that he didn’t try to call either Castiel or Sam and that Kevin was still around), but they’d left for who knows how long with no note.

“Where were the two of you today?”

Sam turned back around slowly. Cas, proactively setting the table for dinner, looked down and refused to meet Dean’s eye. This was going to be good.

“We were hunting, Dean.” Sam said it as if it were no big deal.

They’d gone hunting. Without him.   _Awesome. Just awesome._ What if something had gone wrong? What if Sam had gotten hurt? Or Cas?

“What the _hell_ did you do that for? Isn’t enough going on?! How could you be so irresponsible Sam? Cas doesn’t have his mojo anymore and what if one of you had gotten hurt with no extra backup?” He turned to Castiel, who was still examining the floor with a look of unparalleled concentration, “Cas, how could you let him do that?! I, I just-“

Without another word, Dean stalked out of the kitchen. He immediately knew that he’d overreacted, but turning back around would mean swallowing his pride. Besides, Sam’s only reaction had been to roll his eyes. Dean went to his room, he could just read or whatever til dinner was done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Cas was still looking down. He was so refusing to look up that when he ran into the table for the second time, Sam gently guided him into a chair.

“He’s not actually mad at you Cas, you know that right? He’ll be fine by the time dinner rolls around.” This was all, of course, said with eyebrows raised and Sam’s best look of concern.

“He was right, Sam. It was foolish. If either of us had gotten hurt, he wouldn’t have even known where we were. He never would have forgiven either of us, or himself.”

“Cas, he can’t be there all the time. I know he worries, but sometimes he needs to learn to let go.”

“He worries because he cares, Sam.”

As Sam saw that the conversation was going nowhere, he gave up in favor of finishing up with the rolls Dean had abandoned. He looked over when Cas’s chair made a skidding noise as he stood up.

Cas grabbed a handful of dollars from the ceramic jar that they kept spare change in (a domestic cliché that Dean had argued over for days before he was convinced that it wouldn’t ruin the manly vibe of his kitchen) and left with no further explanation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean scowled at the sound of a knock at his door.

“Go away Sam,” he called without so much as looking up from his book.

“I am not Sam, so I will presume it safe for me to enter,” Cas called as the doorknob turned and he let himself in.

Dean was still a bit upset and didn’t even look up. He didn’t want to talk to Sam or Cas right now. He needed more time to calm down.

“I am sorry that we went on a hunt without so much as telling you. We should have thought to have Kevin tell you, at the very least. I know you worry, Dean. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

Something in the way that Cas just sounded so sincere forced Dean to forgo his cool down period and forgive him on the spot.

He looked up, finding Cas’s eyes. If he was apologizing, he was going to do it right. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I overreacted. Is Sam mad?”

“No, he said that you wouldn’t begrudge either of us after a short wait, but I still wanted to tell you that I am sorry and that I understand why you were-“

He was suddenly interrupted as Dean saw the pie in Castiel’s hands at last. It had been the best peace offering he could think of, and he knew where Dean’s favorite local pie shop was, so an apple pie had seemed like a good gesture.

“DUDE. You got me pie?!?!” Dean jumped up onto his feet and his entire demeanor changed a remarkable amount surprisingly quickly after noticing the box in Castiel’s grasp.

“Yes, I did Dean. Consider it a gesture of solidarity.”

“Cas, I love you!” Dean gushed. Panic etched his features as he began to try backpedalling. Before Dean could get any more words out, Castiel voiced his simple reply.

“I love you too, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth had finally begun to catch up to his brain. “I mean- I uh- Wait what?”

“I said, ‘I love you, too.’ Is that not the normal response for when someone you love vocalizes their affection for you?”

The pie, the angel tablet, the hunt, _everything_ fell away as Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel, at long last.

When they parted again, Castiel returned Dean’s  shocked smirk with a smile. With one hand, Cas grabbed the pie from where he’d had enough brainpower to set it on Dean’s desk, and with the other he found Dean’s own and entangled their fingers. Together they walked, hand in hand, back to the kitchen for dinner.


	10. All I Ever Wanted and More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end, kiddos!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the chapter titles come from Nightmare by MSG, I never knew the song before I wanted to find inspiration for title chapters and I found it. I quite like it now, so give it a listen!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJgjqJItKUs

Honestly, not much had changed. The things that did change, though, changed gradually. When they first walked into the kitchen hand in hand that evening, Sam did little more than raise his eyebrows, Kevin simply looked smug. Dean cleared his throat as he sat down. While Dean whistled Metallica and washed up the dinner dishes, Sam pulled Castiel aside.

“Don’t let him hurt you.”

Cas just nodded.

Sam just looked at him a bit longer before going into the living room and turning on the first Die Hard movie. The living room, still decorated for the ‘50s had one big plush arm chair, a couch, and a love seat. If Sam wanted to lay down, he always had to be on the couch because there was more Sam than there was loveseat. But then Dean always complained, so Sam sat in the chair and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume. Cas came in and sat on the couch as the movie was starting. Kevin wandered in a few minutes later, sitting quietly on the loveseat. Fifteen minutes into the movie, Dean walked in the room. He playfully shoved Sam in the shoulder on his way to the couch.

“Why’d you start the movie without me, bitch?” he chuckled as he walked past. Dean Winchester. _Chuckled_. Sam turned his head to grin back at Dean and watched as he sat down on the other side of the couch from Castiel, his legs carefully separating them on the middle cushion.

When Sam looked over again halfway through the movie, he saw that Dean had shifted so that he was right next to Cas, their shoulders and legs touching. For a change, it was Dean staring at Cas, while Cas was intently watching the movie. The moment that Dean saw that Sam had seen him watching Castiel, he ducked his head before reluctantly returning his focus to the TV screen.

Sam didn’t observe Dean and Cas again til the movie was over and he’d stood up to flip on the lights. When he did so, Kevin stood up and bid him goodnight before returning to his room. Sam turned towards the couch, only to see that Castiel was asleep with his arm wrapped around Dean’s shoulders and hanging down to grab his arm in an upside down version of the imprint he had left on Dean then. Dean was snuggled up close to Cas, with his head resting on the other man’s shoulder as he slumbered. Sam pulled out his phone and was sure to create adequate photo documentation before waking them both up.

When he finally did so, gently shaking Dean’s shoulder was all it took. Hunter instincts kicked in and before Dean’s eyes were even open, he was sitting bolt upright with his hand in his pocket searching for a knife. When he realized where he was and what was going on, Dean just slumped back against Cas (sheepishly withdrawing his hand from his pocket), and tapped Cas on the foot three times to wake him up.

Sam just stood there smirking. Smug bastard.

When Castiel blinked awake, he saw Dean in front of him, leaning down to pick him up off of the couch. Seeing no reason to walk when someone, namely Dean, was perfectly willing to carry him to bed, Cas shut his eyes and allowed himself to be scooped up. Once in Dean’s arms, Cas opened his eyes long enough to wink at Sam, who emitted a surprised chuckle, before playing comatose once more.

Cas might have stiffened just a _tiny_ bit when he was carried past his own door. Dean walked on, seeming to take no notice. Once Dean had let them both into his own room and toed the door shut, he set Cas down on the memory foam bed.

“I know you’re awake, Cas,” Dean intoned as he walked around to his side of the bed, pulling the covers up over them both.

Castiel rolled over to face Dean. He popped one eye open to look at the other man before grumbling his response.

“I thought I was being stealthy.”

Dean’s laugh in reply was stronger and hardier than it had been in months.

“You weren’t.”

After a moment, Dean continued. “And Sam wasn’t either. I won’t, by the way. Hurt you, I mean.”

Then, in an uncharacteristically timid gesture, Dean scooted over and kissed Castiel’s forehead. He then carefully scooted back over to his own side. Maybe Cas was still human and Abaddon was still taking over Hell and there was still bad in the world, but for tonight at least, what was good was good enough for Dean.

“Goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three Years Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, would you kindly get off of me? I need to get up.”

Dean simply grunted and held his angel even closer.

“Dean. I must urinate.”

With that comment, Dean finally rolled off of Castiel.

Castiel stood up, bending over to retrieve some sweatpants from where they’d been shed on the floor the previous night. The first pair he found happened to be Dean’s, a bit big, but they smelled like home and were altogether extremely comfortable. Sensing Dean’s eyes on him, Cas turned back to face him.

“Enjoying the view?”

“Of course. Enjoying wearing my clothes?” Dean smirked.

Cas just raised an eyebrow and turned towards the bathroom.

When Cas returned to their room, Dean whined at him to get back in bed.

“We have a hunt to plan, Dean.”

Shortly after Cas’s grace was returned to him but Castiel decided to stay with the Winchesters, Sam pitched the idea that they stop hunting in such a large area. For the past two years, they’d stuck around Kansas for jobs and used the bunker as a home base. None of them could deny that it was nice to have someplace to call home. It did, however, make it harder to leave their own place to actually go on hunts when needed.

“Do we have to go?” Dean pulled the covers tight around himself in an obvious refusal to get up.

“I’ll make you pancakes if you get up right now,” Castiel promised.

Sam peeked his head into the room, “Did I hear something about pancakes?”

Cas turned to look at him, “Yes, but only if your brother sees fit to get ready for the hunt.”

Sam turned to Dean with his signature puppy-dog eyes.

“This is blackmail, or something,” Dean commented as he reluctantly sat up, still carefully pulling the covers around himself.

 “At least there are pancakes,” Sam pointed out helpfully.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Awesome. Just awesome.”

And for once, things were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might seem a bit disjointed because I wrote parts of this a few weeks ago and I'm just finishing it up today. I could hardly concentrate because of the season finale tonight, but I didn't want this fic to span across two separate hiatuses. So, this is finally the end of my very first fic. I've written quite a bit in the mean time, but this is the first I ever started and my first time finishing up a multi-chapter story. My goal as 12,500 words and I'm so happy I hit that mark! It's taken WAY too long, but I've enjoyed writing this quite a bit and I love hearing all of your feedback! I'll be finishing up Dear Cas soon, then I have to be working on my Dean/Cas Big Bang fic, so stay tuned for all of that! If you'd like, I'd love it if you'd follow me on my tumblr (madmancas or purgatorynightmares)! Thank you all for your encouragement and support of this story, I'd never have been able to finish it without you all!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic, and if it gets a good response, I'll continue this story. This is unrated right now because I don't know yet just how far the characters will go.


End file.
